Private message to Barty

[alt_antonin]

I am minded of a phrase of which an old bokor teacher of mine in New Orleans is inordinately fond: when you are up to your ass in alligators, it is easy to forget you came there to drain the swamp.

In service toward our varying swamp-draining efforts:

- Has there been any signs CM has taken the bait, or should we prod him? It is not that I am growing impatient, merely that we cannot move forward against him until he has been of use. And while revenge is a dish best served cold, if one allows it to chill too far, one's observers do have the most dreadfully difficult time in connecting the dots.

- TN is simmering nicely. After a few days' respite I stepped out briefly from supper with Auri on Wednesday to leave a grave-wreath on his doorstep; when I returned last night, he had stepped up his warding on the house, which I quite enjoyed breaking. (I decided simply breaking the wards would suffice for last night's taunt. Perhaps next time I will break all but the easiest.) He may come to make a report today: I was ostentatious enough in the breaking (and careful enough to mask my signature) that he may think it was a failed breakin attempt. The coins I have flipped say to give him peace today and tomorrow, but if you've any ideas for Sunday's little present, do let me know.

- No progress to report on unraveling whether the rot at Hogwarts goes deeper than Minerva and Snape. I will be dropping in unannounced for "casual chats" with the staff on their holidays as I've time, though, which ought give me a bit more information. At least the castle itself seems content with my leadership -- or that is how I am interpreting her eagerness to be of use. (I must apologise posthumously to Minerva for every time I gently mocked her conviction the castle has a personality. It's rather uncanny how different it is, being Head.)

- How goes your training with Hydra?

I am planning on spending today playing with Our Lord's toys. Assuming they do not eat me, I've let Narcissa know she should choose the menu for supper tonight, and we will dine en famille. Unless you are otherwise occupied, we will expect you around seven or so. I am afraid it must otherwise be an early night.

Comments

[alt_crouch_jr]

Carrow was teaching them blood-letting and evisceration. And turning-coat, apparently, judging by Weasley. Nothing about security or discernment.

Lunch was delicious, by the way.

Rowle v amused by W's boasting his new appointment in the press one week, and then begging something better from a new benefactor the next. Apparently W thinks the position he's been given in Fudge's office is too menial. Thought perhaps something near the top of Protectorate Security would be more appropriate and would allow him to contribute more significantly to Our Lord's service. (Expect W really has no such thoughts. Probably believes himself on course to become the next Minister. As though that were a position of worth or power.)

Rowle does a dead-on imitation of my imitation of W's priggish diction. (You would not have kept a straight face.)

Absolutely think you should make a show of adopting W. You could write him, but it would be far better if he were seen writing you. A light compulsion should do for that. Next time I stumble across him.

Then we can stage his appointment with you. Somewhere M's bound to hear about it.

[alt_antonin]

That sounds like a delightful plan. I do deeply enjoy shaping and moulding the Protectorate's youth, after all. One might even call it a calling. Certainly it would be odd were I not to answer a sincere request for tutelage in the spirit it was intended, would it not be?

I have so few opportunities to amuse myself these days; it will be a pity when this one draws to its sadly-inevitable conclusion.

And I am perfectly capable of keeping a straight face when a straight face is called for. You'll have to re-enact the best bits over supper; Narcissa should find it a comfort. (Or at very least an amusement.)

Still not eaten. Though, come to think of it, I have missed lunch myself. If only I had the slightest fucking clue where I am. I could ask Berry to bring me a hamper, I suppose, but Our Lord's Little Abominations would not make the most cheerful dining companions, and I've only just got them to stop trying to eat each other. To say nothing of the smell.

(Theories on quartzite amplification not appearing promising, by the way.)

[alt_crouch_jr]

Agree there's no rush to end it. The anticipation, really, is its own reward. Not to be cut short.

Don't risk Berry.

Would bring you food myself, but have Bella next. Apologies.